Sanctuary
by BlackBandit111
Summary: Dean's having a small, mild identity crisis. But hiding in the bathroom is a little ridiculous. Slash, destiel.


_Today is literally the "find past fics and post them" day, so I hope you enjoy! _

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><p>It wasn't that Dean didn't love Cas.<p>

Quite the opposite, actually. He'd only just realized- like holy actual Christ just now- watching Cas smile sitting at the table next to Sam, both engrossed in some Angel-mojo conversation that he couldn't keep up with.

One could call Dean Winchester many things, but he wasn't stupid, nor was he an idiot. He recognized a chick flick moment when there was one (actually he made a point of seeing them from miles away so he could dodge them, but that tactic had only gotten him so far in life) and did his best to deal with them in the least humiliating way possible.

But this- hiding in the bathroom- was just ridiculous.

He wasn't...gay. He couldn't be. He liked chicks. Girls. Their figures. Their bodies.

But then he thought about the way Castiel's eyes crinkled in the corners when he smiled; thought about the way his hair grew windswept when he'd disappear and come back. Thought about that stupid trench coat he insisted wearing everywhere and... He was actually royally screwed.

He buried his face in his hands, rubbing it tiredly. "Son of a bitch," he muttered under his breath, "this can't happen."

He didn't like guys; he didn't. Was it even possible to like both? Was it...normal?

Well wait- wait. There were those- God, what was the term- bisexuals, right? And pansexuals and gays and lesbians and every type under the sun around the world now, and they weren't scorned too bad, right?

God, he wasn't kidding anyone. "Son of a bitch," he repeated, but it held no real malice to it. He didn't actually know who he was cursing at.

He didn't like guys- he didn't. He simply didn't look at them like that.

Which meant that it was only Cas.

It...was only Cas.

Only Cas.

"Son of a bitch," he whispered, and jumped slightly when there was a rap on the door. Dean paused, clenching his jaw and giving himself a moment to scowl at the fact he'd flinched before Cas's voice- the only voice he seriously did not need right now- _son of a bitch-_ floated out to him.

"Dean?" And aw Christ, he sounded concerned, which made Dean feel a whole new level of guilty. "Are you alright?"

He cleared his throat- _sonofabitch_ why was it clogged- and made an effort to sound fine. why was it clogged- and made an effort to sound fine. "I'm fine, Cas." God, that sounded gruff. Consciously trying to sound softer, he said with a deep breath, "I'm good, Cas. Be out in a minute."

He eyed the window thoughtfully for a long moment before shaking his head.

"Dean," Cas said again, and Dean was torn between wanting to run and wanting to scream at the angel for pressing, "you don't sound alright."

"Yeah, well," Dean snapped, "I am. So leave it."

There was a pause, then silence. Dean figured Cas had walked away and he waiting a few more minutes to be sure before getting up and wiping his face.

The man in the mirror was not who Dean remembered- he looked worn. Weary.

Scowling again and trying his best to wipe the expression off his face, he opened the door-

And found Cas standing there, his nose inches from Dean's.

Rearing back because _holy damn he was this close to Castiel and oh God he literally couldn't right now_, he reacted the only way he knew how.

By shouting. Loudly. "Son of a bitch, Cas!" He yelled, taking a few rapid steps back into the bathroom. "We've talked about personal space, dude! God!"

Cas remained silent, his blue eyes intense and his face pensive. "We have," he said. "And I've chosen to disregard that for the moment."

Dean's next insult died on his lips, and he stared at his friend (_no, no, that wasn't right, was it?)_ swallowing down his nervousness. He was Dean Winchester for Christ's sakes, and he could handle a chick flick moment.

"Dean," he said, taking another step closer and Dean was this close to taking a step back before his stubborn streak burned bright and made him stay firmly planted in place. "Dean," he repeated. "We need to talk."

"No, Cas, we don't," Dean snapped, going to step around the angel. A firm but not unkind hand to his shoulder stopped him, and Dean's green eyes flitted to Cas's stern ones.

"Yes, Dean, we do."

And aw Hell, he wasn't getting out of this one. But Dean Winchester wasn't one to give up easily. "No, Cas, we don't!" He shouted, wrenching his arm out of his friend's grasp and taking another few steps backwards. "We don't! There is absolutely nothing to talk about! _At all!"_

"There is," Cas said softly, and Dean rolled his eyes, throwing his hands up in the air.

"What, Cas, what do you want to talk about, huh? Because if it's about the mild identity crisis I just had about loving you I don't want to-"

Damn.

Damn damn damn damn damn damn. That didn't just happen. Nope. Cas didn't just Jedi mind trick him into saying that. Nope.

But by Cas's smug expression, he did.

Dean faltered; floundered. His mouth opened and closed as he tried to find the right words to say. "By that-" he cleared his throat, "I meant- uh- that I just realized you were apart of the family- and- you and Sam were sitting there and you're both like my brothers and- and-"

"Dean," Cas interrupted, and Dean had never been so happy to close his mouth in his life, "shut up."

And then Cas's lips were on his.

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Demon Dean doesn't remember this moment. He doesn't remember Cas's smile or his laughter or the way his eyes sparkle when he's joyful. He doesn't remember the stolen kisses or the hand holding or the lazy times they'd just sit in the Impala. He doesn't remember the love he'd held for the angel or the love the angel felt for him. He doesn't remember a lot of things.

His lips tingle sometimes when he looks to Castiel from where he's stuck in the Devil's Trap, though, and sometimes he sees the reflection of pain in the angel's eyes.

Some part of him- the stupid mortal part that remembers- remembers- what it was like to be the Righteous Man- but he squishes it down, and instead forgets.

And Cas thinks that maybe that's what hurts the most.

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><p><em>Alright, that's it! thanks for reading and please leave me a comment on your thoughts<em>


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